


Entente

by Lirendil



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 15:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16789645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirendil/pseuds/Lirendil
Summary: “We've got a gunman who needs a bit of a talking to.” Widowmaker rolled her eyes. Surely she wasn't being sent on something as silly as a negotiation.





	Entente

**Author's Note:**

> Tens of thousands of words in other fics waiting to be published and my brain pops this random scene out. Typical.

Dust blew up behind a motorcycle as a tall, dark rider blazed through the desert. Widowmaker's grip on the handles was a bit tighter than necessary, unleashing her pent up annoyance in the only way she currently could. This petty errand in the middle of nowhere was the last thing she wanted to be doing right now.

_We've got a gunman who needs a bit of a talking to. Or woman, as it were._ Widowmaker had rolled her eyes at Sombra's words. Surely she wasn't being sent on something as silly as a _negotiation_.

But she was, as Reaper had immediately confirmed.

_We need you on this mission, Widowmaker._

No, they didn't. They just had nothing better for her to do and didn't want to deal with her cabin fever. Well, she supposed given how she'd handled the last time she was bored, perhaps she shouldn't blame them.

But it felt better to anyway.

Admittedly, she had been mildly enticed by the idea of another sniper, however rudimentary she clearly was. Widowmaker couldn't help but fantasize about _accidentally_ failing in her peaceful mission and _somehow_ winding up in a firefight. She would obviously win so perhaps that would send enough of a message anyway. If her opponent survived.

Widowmaker slowed as she reached the designated meeting point, seeing that she was several minutes ahead of schedule. She hoped her target - euh, contact - wouldn't run late because she had better things to do.

She swung her leg over the bike to descend then rested against it, tapping her nails on the seat. At this barren intersection, there was nothing to do but wait and watch the oncoming road as the air above the pavement rippled with heat. She pulled a bit at her collar. She might not have been able to feel the cold, but unfortunately the opposite wasn't as true.

At last, she spotted a dot in the distance, increasing in size until she could make out someone on a fiery red motorcycle. It came straight for her but Widowmaker remained unperturbed as it drifted and screeched to a halt several feet away.

It took a good few seconds for the dust to clear enough to see the slender frame descending from the bike.

Widowmaker raised an eyebrow at her. “Quite the flair for the dramatic.”

“You’re one to talk.” Ashe smiled as she pulled off her helmet, shaking out her white hair. “Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe.” She extended a hand. “We've never properly met before.”

Widowmaker shook it but her expression remained unaffected. “You already know who I am; Talon sent notice.”

“I sure do.” Ashe casually hung her helmet on a handle then looked back at her. “Guillard, huh? Old money from eastern France.”

Widowmaker hesitated with a surprised blink. “How do you know that?”

“I make it my business to know,” Ashe drawled, eyes crinkling with amusement. “You were young when I first heard of you: the prodigy little ballerina that the Mr and Mrs always left home. I could empathize with that. Lost track of you for years, though. Talon keeps a tight lid on their people.”

Widowmaker's mouth was set in an annoyed line. “Not tight enough, apparently.”

“You gotta give me a little credit. Like I said, this is what I do.” Ashe stepped back to lean against her bike and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. She paused and looked up. “D'you mind?”

Widowmaker shook her head absently. Her brow was furrowed in thought and she finally spoke as Ashe took a long draw of her cigarette. “Ashe. Your family name ran in wealthy circles.”

Ashe blew out smoke to the side. “So you remember my parents. What I know shouldn't come as too much of a surprise, then. They knew everything that mattered about everyone that mattered and used it to keep them all playing nice.”

“You simply filled that void in the illegal sector.”

“ _Less_ legal.” Dark red lips curled into a wry smile. “Few people make it to the top anywhere without breaking rules.”

“Are you trying to expand your reach then? Why are you interfering with Talon?”

“Oh, I had no plans to interfere initially. I've been happy here in my little corner of the world putting some order where there'd ain't be none if it wasn't for me. But Talon can't keep its grimy fingers off anything. So I made them a deal: they get access to my land, my goods if they go through me and I decide to let them. Otherwise, whoever I catch gets turned into an example.”

“Talon does not take kindly to such measures.”

“Listen, I made the southwest what it is today and I don't intend on changing my mind for just anyone who doesn't like it.” Her crimson eyes were sharp as she pointed the fingers holding her cigarette accusingly. “I run a tight ship ‘round these parts. No one's special and no one gets off easy. I operate by a code that will honor any agreement we make just as much as force me to retaliate if you violate it. But we don't have to let it get to that point.” Her voice smoothed out once more with that last, returning the cigarette to her lips.

Widowmaker gave her a critical look but didn't immediately argue. She was trying to gauge how to handle this with who was clearly a tough customer. “You expect Talon to go through you for everything.”

“Everything that involves my territory, yes. It won't be that hard; they already are if they sent you.” Ashe raised her eyebrows as though daring Widowmaker to contradict the point, but the spark in her eye said she knew that wouldn't happen. “So what is it y'all are looking for out here? Goods? A target?”

“Jesse McCree.”

“Oh, McCree, huh? Guess he is still getting himself into trouble.” Ashe narrowed her eyes. “Wait a second… you're also here because I know him.”

“Perhaps. Have you had any contact with him?”

“Ha, you don't think I'm actually helping that pain in the ass, do you?” Ashe scoffed. “Yeah I had contact with him alright; he intercepted a payload a few miles down the road and tragically, I didn't win the fight to hang onto it. Couldn't say where he is now, probably long gone.”

That piqued Widowmaker's curiosity. “What was inside the payload?”

“You know,” Ashe put a hand on her hip, “your questions are real friendly like I'm actually getting something out of this. I did y'all a favor forgiving your little indiscretion on my turf but I am not your informant.”

Annoyance was quarreling with the slightest bit of admiration in Widowmaker's mind. This woman had zero tolerance for being taken advantage of and was smart enough to smell the barest hint of it. It was no less than what Talon would demand the other way around. In any event, she decided not to waste her frustration on this. Ashe was right: Widowmaker wasn't here to extract information. Yet.

“I suppose we have finished our negotiations, then. We will contact you when we next continue our search here.”

“See? Coming to a little understanding wasn't that hard. I go on with my business, and you move on with yours. Everyone's happy.” She dropped her cigarette onto the ground and crushed it with the heel of her boot. “If you ever look happy,” she added dryly.

There went the admiration. “We will be in touch,” Widowmaker said coolly.

But before she could turn around, she caught Ashe tapping a thoughtful finger to her lips. “You know, pumpkin, as impressive as your accomplishments seem to be, you never struck me as the type to get involved in a mess like this. Did Talon help you along? Or did they make you?”

Widowmaker bristled further. “What a ridiculous accusation.”

“All you had to say was no.” Ashe looked at her with a suspicion that was a bit too invasive. “As much as I can respect your skill, Talon isn't exactly on my nice list.”

“Don't tell me you would support something like Overwatch.”

“Overwatch, Talon, two sides of the same coin at the end of the day. Neither were here when it mattered, and neither's gonna encroach on my house for their own big, holier-than-thou purposes. All we can really do is look out for ourselves in this world. Maybe you should consider doing that.”

“Or what?”

“Or nothing, honey.” Ashe laughed shortly. “It's your life, I can't do anything about that.”

The insinuation that Ashe was making chafed at her. “Why would I leave Talon? I do what I do of my own free will.”

“Do you, now?” Ashe pursed her lips, looking at Widowmaker contemplatively. “Good,” she finally announced, getting onto her bike. “Then I won't feel so bad if I ever have to shoot you.”

Widowmaker narrowed her eyes fiercely. “You would never even have a chance.”

“You wanna bet on that?”

“I would gladly wager your life.”

“I'll be happy with just your pride.” Ashe winked at her. “Till we meet again, doll.” She put her helmet over her head and revved up her engine. With a clean fishtail, she whipped around back the way she came, quite literally leaving Widowmaker in the dust.

“A la prochaine,” she murmured sardonically.

She certainly hoped this wouldn't be their last meeting because someone needed to be put in her place. She mounted her bike and drove off, her grip far more relaxed than earlier.

Next time, she would definitely look forward to being bored.


End file.
